


There'll be peace when you are done...

by SongOfTheFallenAngels



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:12:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongOfTheFallenAngels/pseuds/SongOfTheFallenAngels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Closing Hell is a daunting task, especially with angels on their tails. Sam and Dean have come this far, but its becoming increasingly difficult and with Cas hidden away, Dean is getting worried...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the hideous wallpaper of brown and black strips varying in thickness, it didn't bother him, of course, this was the kind of serial killer chic he had grown to ignore. He had to after years of cheap motels and scummy suites.

Infact, an actual room was a welcome change from the odd night in the Impala.

Dean was at the other side of the room, the corner of his denim jacket was turned up and slightly in the way of his face as he worked through a newspaper, occasionally lifting an eyebrow but then he would shake his head. This was what he admired about his big brother, his pure devotion to the job, if only he felt the same way.

  
Sam sighed, the time inbetween hunts or god challenges were tedious.

"Whats your problem?" Dean had lifted his head from working and looked towards his brother, his forehead slightly wrinkled in curiosity.

"What? Oh...nothing" 

"Come on now, what is it? Cause, y'know, if sitting over there is too much work for you, I can always find something a little easier...." Dean gave one of his classic, cheeky smiles as he spoke.

"HA. HA." The sarcasm in his voice overpowered the amusement. "Got anything?"

"Nah. Not yet at least. You heard from Kevin yet?"

"No. Anyway, why would he contact _me?"_

Dean shrugged and exhaled loudly through his nose before going back to his newspaper. "How should I know"

Sam lay down across his bed, the stale, smokey smell that rose from the sheets and made his nose wrinkle suggested they hadn't been washed. His lip curled slightly at the thought. 

"Uh....Dean?"

"Yeah" He didn't look up as he spoke.

"Ah, nothing. I'm going for a walk"

"Sure" This was Dean's usual reaction when he wasn't listening, Sam just rolled his eyes and made for the door. He turned to look at the blond man who was fast at work, eyes flicking from headline to headline searching for a job; he would do this for hours sometimes. Sam shook his head and left. Upon hearing the door close Dean became alert and looked around to see the room was empty.

"Huh..."  He snorted before returning to the stack of papers on the table.

 

 

 

The air was cold as he stepped out into the parking lot, causing Sam to hug his Jacket tighter. The neon signs for cheap buger joints and other crappy Motels glared through the dark with that common "hum"  he was accustomed to. Sam walked through the lot, looking side to side with the usual cation that came with hunting and, upon see no reason to be suspicious, continued to walk until he reched the main road.  The night was fairly clear and Sam thought as he walked. He thought about the buzzing traffic, the next challenge he had to face, but most of all, he thought about what he was going to ask Dean back in the cramped motel room.

 _Castiel._ He thought.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean sat sloched over in a white, uncomftable motel chair, the kind that was cold metal and looked as if it should be in a cheap gardon catalogue. He was done with the papers, he had been done a long time ago but he knew Sammy would want to talk so he made himself look busy.

It wasn't that he didn't love his brother, no, he would go to hell and back for his and had, once. No, it was what he would want to talk about that put Dean off conversing.

Dean rubbed his stubble with one of his large hands as he thought.

"Look, Cas, Chances are you won't be listening, and if you are you won't care, but if you've got your ears on....Then just stop being a dick and come home. I mean, hear me out, ok? If you won't come to help us, then do it just so we know you're alright. Come on, you owe me after that beating I got last time.....Right?...Cas?"

Dean shook his head, he should have known better then to try when it came to angels.

"You know what, _screw_ you"

"Screw me? What did I do?" Sam's voice mocked from the door. He was back from his nightly walk and he filled the doorway with his muscular form. It was cold out and his nose and cheeks were slightly pink which was a strong contrast to the rest of his tanned face. The smell of outside clung to his checked shirt and jeans. Earth and wind, he smelt like a forrest.

"Ah...Nothing. Hey, shut the door will you, I'm freezing my ass over here." Dean would never admit he missed him.

"OK, well. You found anything or are you just gonna complain about your ass?" He said as he shut the door and walked over to his bed.

"Yeah. Down in Minnesota, got a couple of ritualistic killings."

"So....you thinking witches?"

"Well it sure as hell sounds that way" _Damn witches_ he muttered under his breath. Dean hated all things supernatural but he had a personal grudge against witches.

"Ok, so we set out tomorrow. And eeeeer, Dean? Who were you talking to?" Sam spoke gingerly, Castiel was a touchy subject with his brother, especially after their last encounter with him.

"No one, it was nothing."

"Ok, so no word from Cas?"

"No." Dean was blunt in his answer and annoyence washed over his features, Sam could tell this was a "no go" situation.

"Ok, well....Just tell me when he doe-"

"And why would that sonofabitch contact _me_ anyway? Huh? He made it pretty clear that he would rather beat the crap outta me and save his own sorry ass then help us out."

"Yeah, I know, Dean."

"OK!" As he said this, he walked over to hi bed and flopped onto the covers. "Now I'm gonna get some shut eye and in the morning we're gonna get some jacked up Satan lovers."

"Ok, Dean. Sure." Sam pursed his lips slightly in defeat. Dean is as stubborn as they go and carrying this on would only lead to a fight and they both knew that Dean has the upper hand there, despite Sam's obvious height advantage.

Dean is, although just as toned as his little brother, slender, agile and fast along with it which made his handy in a fight. He would always weed his way around them and kick 'em when they weren't looking.

Sam sighed and walked over to the door to flip the lights and when everyhting was dark, he crawled into his own bed. Dean would have other things to occupy his thoughts tomorrow so, hopefully, Castiel wouldn't be an issue.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and the comment.

The sun was bright the next morning, really bright and when Dean woke Sam was half ready. This was very much like his little brother, to wake up early and be ready first. It had been that way since they were little.

Dean was about to go off into his memories about a time when Sam did something or the other before a familier voice called out. 

"Dean?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm up. Okay." Dean replied. He hated getting up, in fact, it was the worst part of his day.

* * * * * 

They had been driving for a while now (if six hours is a while) and it would still be another day before they got to Minnesota, they just had to be in Califoria when a job appeared...

Dean had the radio on, as always, and "Broken, beat & scarred " blared through the speakers. Metalica was one of few albums Dean owned and one of his favorites to play, as Sam well knew.

"Dean." Sam called. His brother may have been sitting all of thirty centemeters away but the music was very loud.

Dean turned the volume up and caarried on nodding to the sound.

_Breaking your teeth on the hard life coming_

"Dean"

_Show your scars_

_  
_"Dean"

_Cutting your feet on the hard earth running_

 

 _"_ Dean!" Sam did not find this funny, it was actually starting to piss him off. For most of the drive they hadn't spoken and now that he as just going to ask if he was hungry, his brother won't even listen.

Sam reached for the radio and pressed eject, when the cd was released he threw it into the back of the car.

"DEAN" he said,forcefully. 

"Oh, were you saying something?" He chuckled. This was typical Dean, he was a piss taker with what he thought was the wit of Byron and the patience of their father.

"Yeah, you know waht? I was." Sam's anger spilt into his voice with a bit more strength then he intended.

" ok, lets not throw a hissy" Dean was serious now, he knew he pissed Sam off but normally he just rolled his eyes, he could see this wasn't going to to just be "shaken off"

"stop off here will ya" Sam was staring out the passenger window. 

Dean did as he asked and pulled over at the side of the road, as the car hulted he looked over at Sammy.

"you know, I could get something to eat. You want anything?"

"Yeah, thats what I was talking about. Theres a burger joint just up there."

"cool"

* * * * * *

It was dark now, They had been driving for hours and hours and they were both half asleep, which isn't a good idea when driving. 

"Hay, sammy. Wake up"

"Noooo, I'm tired, Dean"

"Oh, ok. I'll just fall asleep too and we can snooze as we roll into oncoming traffic"

Sam sat up and tried to look lively.

"ok, there should be a motel around here"

Sure enough, a couple of blocks down a sign read "the hummingbird". The neon blue lettings stang Deans eyes through the dark. They pulled up and went to the front desk.

"Yeah, um. A room for two, if you don't mind"

The guy at the desk looked serly and barly looked up from his paper.

"eh hmm" Dean tilted his head. He was tired and in no mood to be messed with.

"sure" The counter guy said slowly, he looked up at the rack of keys as if he expected Dean to hop over the desk and grab one for himself.

"Sometime, y'know, now. If its not to much trouble." he narrowed his eyes as he spoke. If he had to slam this guys face into a wall just to get a room he would do it.

The guy shot him a look that could kill while reluctantly getting up and walking to the key rack, dragging his feet with each step.

He was a middle aged guy with a comb over and no wedding ring, Dean noted and he had lots of white fur around his trouser leg. A cat. 

 _OK, thats enough, Sherlock._  Dean thought to himself.

Sam came through the doors with the bags and smiled politly at the owner as he, begrudgingly, handed the key over. Well, he didn't so much hand it over as throw it in Deans general direction.

"I see you made a good impression" Sam whispered as they walked to the room

"Shut up...." Dean half joked.

 

 

 

In the room it was small and empty apart from two beds and a table with all of one chair. There wasn't even a wardrobbe. 

"At least we got our monies worth" Dean snorted as he launched himself onto a bed. Sam did the same, taking the remaining bed and chucking the bags in the corner.

"yeah, nothing says "welcome" like a room with four objects"

There was no time for any more talking, both the boys were asleep within a matter of minutes and neither had bothered to change out of their day cloths. After a long day on the road "hitting the hay" was the best thing possible.  
THIS was the best part of Dean's day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sorry about the long wait, but I have been quite busy recently. Thank you for the kudos and comments.

The snow lay heavy and thick on the ground, sparkling like tiny diamonds in the last of the dieing light. A man strode along in a trench coat that was just past his knees and the wind brushed his short black hair as he passed. He went with such grace that any would think he was floating above the ground, if it weren't for the foot prints that marked his path. There was an odd beauty about him, like a marble statue, perfect and polished to the touch but cold and unreadable. There were no houses near and no people about. He was toatally alone and that fact weighed down upon him.

  
He carried something grey and heavy on the inside of his coat, he would pat the side of the coat every now and then, to check that it was still in place.He had been walking for a long time, but he couldn't quite remember how long and after a while snow covered hills look the same.   
Out of habit he patted the side of the trench coat one more, but this time he felt a small lump in the pocket that he had forgotten about. He stopped as he stared at the small flip phone he had descoverd.

  
 _Please, remind me as to why I need this?_ He had said.  
 _Well, we're not all blessed with angel radio and phones look a little less suspicious in public places_. Dean had told him.

  
If this had happend a month ago he would have smiled at the memory, but this was now. His heart had frozen over in that snowy waste land and not even the warmth of Dean's voice could melt it. He dropped the phone and left it in the tiny dent it had made in the snow upon impact.

 

_Look, Cas, Chances are you won't be listening, and if you are you won't care, but if you've got your ears on.._

  
Castiel closed his eyes, almost wincing. He could go to the furthest conrners of the Earth but the Winchesters were a part of him he could never escape. He wanted to answer, god, he really wanted to but he had promised himsel it would be easier if he didn't give in.

  
_you know what, screw you_

  
He could feel a rush inside of him, like loyalty, love and regret all the same time. It was guilt.  
They were a part of him, not only had they freed him but they had accepted him. He had been a soldier of the Lord, a black blooded monster and he had been broken. But still they came back for him. And now he was here. Running away from the only people he could call family.

"I must do this first. Then I can return" He spoke out loud to himself.

Castiel knew better then anyone that angles were just as dangerous as demons. _He_ was just as dangerous as demons.It was at that moment he knew what he had to do.

********

Kevin twitched as he slept, he could run for as long as he anted but he couldn't run from is own mind. His eyes were still red and puffy, no amount of sleep could fix that. Sometime he would wonder how he got to where he was, going from a boy genius to someone who slept in allyway, running from things people had no idea existed. His shirt was stained and fraying and his pants were toen past repair, he wasn't the person he used to be. He didn't know himself anymore.

Castiel walked silently down the alley way towards the sleeping boy. He put one had to Kevin's face and with the other he reached underneath him to retrieve the tablet he lay on for safety. Cas frowed as he looked at the bruised eyes and chapped lips. He so wished he could fix him, take back the the curse he had been born with, but any interferance would be noticed and it was better Kevin be kept in the dark about his new plan. With perfect ease Castiel slid a different tablet underneath the boy. The next part would be more difficult.


End file.
